Christmas Confessions – A turbo lift story
by Time's Scribe
Summary: A more serious response to my own Festive Turbo-lift fic challenge: Talking about X-mas. Pen a festive fic, oh best beloveds, in which our lovely ladies, that's B'Elanna & Seven if you haven't realised! are on board the notorious turbo-lift beta/Ralst, on the way or returning from a Christmas Party at Fairhaven. The rest is up to you! Michael


TITLE: Christmas Confessions – A turbo lift story.

AUTHOR/S: Times Scribe

PAIRING: B'Elanna & Seven of Nine

RATING: Fan fiction T (PG13) Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

BETA READING: Kristy

DISCLAIMER: Star Trek and all the main characters are owned by Paramount Pictures/CBS Network Television, A Viacom/CBS Corporation. Star Trek: Voyager. Created by, Rick Berman, Michael Piller & Jeri Taylor, and is based on Star Trek created by Gene Roddenberry. Extract from 'Christmas at Fezziwig's Warehouse - A Christmas story, by Charles Dickens,' ( . /christmas-at%20fezziwig' ) are owned by the public domain.

WARNING: This is a piece of fiction, concerning an implied F/F relationship. If anyone objects to same sex relationships, you should not be on this site, and should read the Star Trek Range of Novels from Pocket Books, or find another site.

SUMMARY: A more serious response to my own Festive Turbo-lift fic challenge: Talking about X-mas. Pen a festive fic, oh best beloveds, in which our lovely ladies, (that's B'Elanna & Seven if you haven't realised!) are on board the notorious turbo-lift beta/Ralst, on the way or returning from a Christmas Party at Fairhaven. The rest is up to you! Michael

WRITTEN: 19th December 2010 (VJB Post 51067)

NOTES: VIghro – A cat like Creature that inhabits Q'Nos

Now:

Lt B'Elanna Torres awoke, groggily looking around; she discovered that she was in a turbo-lift, and not her quarters. She felt like she had been run over by a herd of wild Targ, 'I hope I haven't done anything stupid,' she thought to herself, and she started to try and remember what had happened the night before...

Then:

B'Elanna felt morose and drunk. She wished she had taken her captain's advice, and stayed away from the party.

Her meandering relationship with Thomas Eugene Paris, a man with a Peter Pan complex and an ego the size of the Warp Core (according to him, he was 'God's gift to women!'), had finally ended when she caught him trying to seduce the captain, not in his quarters, but B'Elanna's own! The only reason she wasn't in the brig is because Paris was too embarrassed to press charges, and the captain was quite frankly relived that B'Elanna had arrived in the 'nick of time,' as she would have done far more damage than a broken nose and bruised genitals.

Now three months later, and to reclaim his former standing with certain sections of Voyager's crew, Paris had organized a festive party in the Fairhaven programme. Attendance wasn't compulsory, however after the last couple of days of salvaging the remains of the Delta Flyer (How anyone could manage to crash the Flyer whilst remote piloting it onto the hanger deck was beyond her. Paris still maintained it was a computer control error and not his piloting skills), B'Elanna decided to attend. Paris couldn't stop her from having fun, and she deserved a drink. Besides she was a Klingon Warrior, not some timid VIghro.

Though after two hours, she was swiftly changing her mind.

To begin with, she had discovered, much to her dismay, that she couldn't hold her drink as well as she could in the past, but the thing that was making her regret coming the most was the company.

Her ex was arm in arm with 'shag of the week.' The Doctor was serenading an ensign from Earth Sciences with opera, and Janeway was seeing how far she could get her tongue down Sullivan's throat.

The two people who she thought she could rely on to make the party interesting were doing the exact opposite. Harry Kim was moaning to a holo-character on the fact he was still an ensign, particularly after Seven's promotion; and Chakotay was going on about his ancestors for the umpteenth time. If Seven was here, B'Elanna decided, the former drone would be able to give an exact figure.

Thinking of the blond bombshell made B'Elanna miss her former antagonistic crew mate. Over the last six months, B'Elanna and Seven had become steadily closer. The beautiful half Klingon couldn't quite put her finger on the exact moment she had a change of heart about the former drone, but it was about the same time the Borg Children came onboard. B'Elanna quickly noticed that Seven was nurturing them, protecting them, being a mother to them. For the first time, B'Elanna saw through the psychological Borg armour to see the real Seven of Nine, a caring, slightly insecure individual. It became more apparent when Icheb left with his parents, and then his rescue, after they tried to reuse him as a Bio-weapon.

As B'Elanna started to see Seven in a different light, and dropped her own barriers whilst around her, the former Borg drone also started to see the real B'Elanna. As the pair began to work more harmoniously together a friendship had developed, which quickly deepened as they spent more and more time in each other's company. True they still enjoyed the occasional 'mock argument,' to add a little excitement into their day, relieving the monotony of the Delta Quadrant, but it was always carried out with a smile, and a twinkle in their eyes.

However, for the last few weeks whenever the Chief Engineer was around Seven she felt like her blood was on fire. B'Elanna tried to stay in control of her emotions but knew if she stayed near Seven for much longer, she would end up doing something she would regret. But the former drone was like a drug to B'Elanna. Anytime she spent away from her, her body would ache, as if suffering from withdrawal.

So leaving the party behind, the petite Klingon went off to find the secret love of her life.

Seven of Nine glanced up from the padd she was reading, as the door to the turbo lift hissed open.

"Hey, I was looking for you." B'Elanna slurred as she entered the lift.

Seven quirked her optical implant and smirked. "Well here I am Lt."

B'Elanna sauntered into the lift, well in her mind it was a saunter, but to a bemused former drone it was a stagger.

"B'Elanna you appear to be intoxicated!"

"You don't say Seven!"

"I deduce you are not on the way to sickbay?"

"You deduce correctly Seven of Nine. The Doc at the present is 'chatting up' an ensign. Besides I've got nothing that a good night's sleep won't cure." With that B'Elanna ordered the lift to the deck her quarters were situated on.

"How was the festivity?"

"Terrible! But I learnt two things. Firstly; I think you, Tuvok and I are the sanest people on Voyager's senior personnel list, as the rest have become what medical circles would call 'Whob Whob!' And secondly I can't handle my alcohol anymore." B'Elanna answered, with a hiccup.

"But that doesn't matter," she continued. "What matters is that I have found my best friend." She finished, resting her head on Seven's shoulder.

Seven's heart clenched when her best friend laid her head on her shoulder. She too had started to develop feelings for the Klingon, but in exactly in the same way as B'Elanna, she was too scared to act on it, worried that she would lose B'Elanna as a friend.

In an expression of comfort, which she used frequently on Naomi, the Borg children and B'Elanna, herself, she put a protective arm round the smaller women.

"I missed you, why didn't you come?" B'Elanna enquired, softly, luxuriating in the warmth of Seven's touch.

"I was doing something more productive than watch the Senior Staff get inebriated and act in a foolish manner."

B'Elanna snorted at that. "You can say that again!"

Seven ignored her drunken friend's comment, and continued if nothing had happened. "I was reading 'A Christmas Carol' to Mazoti and Naomi."

"That's by Lewis Carroll isn't it?"

"Incorrect, B'Elanna, it is by Charles Dickens. Lewis Carroll wrote Alice..."

Seven's informative correction was interrupted by the lift lurching and the lights going out.

B'Elanna found herself lying on top of Seven. She tried not to show any emotion, as her intoxicated body yearned for the touch she desperately wanted.

So as the emergency lights came on, and with the help of Seven, she ungainly got back onto her feet and tapped her Comm. Badge. "Torres to Engineering."

"Nicoletti here Chief."

"Susan we've got a power outage in turbo lift Beta."

"We are on it Lt. It's a RALST."

"A what?"

"A Random Attributed Lateral Sub-processor Termination," Seven started. "A lateral Sub-processor termination, caused..."

"Seven, ensign; my head is starting to feel like there is a warp core breach in progress. I'm not really in the mood for technobabble. How long will it take to be repaired?"

"Six hours Chief."

B'Elanna groaned and slumped against the wall.

Seven tapped her own Comm. Badge. "Ensign are the transporters back on-line?"

"Yes and no Seven. The transporter's large capacity pattern buffers are still off line for general maintenance, but the cargo transporters are fully functional, so even if we can't beam you out, we can transport stuff in to make your confinement a bit more pleasant."

"Thank you ensign, that would be most appreciated. Seven of Nine out."

B'Elanna flopped down on the floor, closed her eyes, and growled in frustration, not listening to Seven's conversation with Susan Nicoletti. She wanted to be curled up in her warm bed, with Toby. True she would prefer Seven, but Toby would do, not stuck in a sodding turbo-lift. She heard the whine of the transporter, and when she opened her eyes, Seven was busily examining the contents of a box.

"I thought the transporter was still off line?"

"The cargo transporters are on line, but personal transporters are still non-functional."

B'Elanna picked up two of the cushions provided, and put them on the floor of the lift. Pulling the box towards the cushions, she sat down on one of them, making herself comfortable. She patted the cushion next to her, and the Chief of Astrometrics primly sat down besides her.

"You know you may be more comfortable with your boots off."

Seven admitted to herself that B'Elanna had a point, and she deftly removed her standard Starfleet Issue Boots. (B'Elanna had persuaded Seven to give up on the Bio-suit at the same time as she persuaded the captain to allow her to adapt a set of VIP quarters for the family Seven, and to also give her the proper rank of Chief of Astrometrics.) B'Elanna gave a satisfied nod, picked up another sandwich, and settled back into Seven.

"Are you sure you don't want a sandwich?"

"I am adequately full B'Elanna. The meal you replicated for us earlier has sufficiently filled my nutritional needs. Moreover you will need to eat the sandwiches to help metabolise the Synthohol."

B'Elanna shrugged her shoulders. "I am Klingon, I can handle a hangover!" she exclaimed, whilst grabbing a bottle of water and the pain killers.

"Sev. Will you tell me a Christmas story?" B'Elanna requested. She had finished eating the sandwiches and was lying sleepily with her head on Seven's lap, whilst the blond was absent-mindedly stroking her hair.

Seven picked up the padd, and found something appropriate:

"Christmas at Fezziwig's Warehouse - A Christmas story, by Charles Dickens." She started.

"I'Yo Ho! My boys," said Fezziwig. "No more work to-night! Christmas Eve, Dick! Christmas, Ebenezer! Let's have the shutters up!" cried old Fezziwig with a sharp clap of his hands, "before a man can say Jack Robinson. . . ."

Seven looked down, to find B'Elanna falling asleep. "I love you B'Elanna Torres," she whispered, placing a chaste kiss on her brow.

"Love you too, Seven of Mine," B'Elanna murmured in reply.

Now:

Lt B'Elanna Torres awoke, groggily looking around; she discovered that she was in a turbo-lift, and not her quarters. She felt like she had been run over by a herd of wild Targ, '_I hope I haven't done anything stupid_' she thought to herself, and she started to try and remember what had happened the night before. She looked up to see the face of Seven of Nine looking down at her; a face full of apprehension and fear.

"Do you really love me B'Elanna Torres?"

"You don't pull any punches do you Seven?" B'Elanna joked trying to relieve the tension.

"Please answer the question." Seven replied desperately, the fear on her face mirrored in her voice.

B'Elanna pulled herself up until she was straddling Seven's lap. She cupped the blonds face in her hands and looked directly into her eyes. "Yes, Kahless help me. I love you Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero-One. My hearts burn when I am around you and they ache when I am not. I count the minutes until I see you again."

B'Elanna gently lowered Seven for a gentle kiss, and just as their lips met Seven whispered,

"I love you too B'Elanna."

The End


End file.
